


Love's Destiny Found

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Other Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm pines for the one he cannot have. Archer/m, Reed/m. (10/01/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This story came about cause my bunny for another story had decided to hibernate. Then, during some posts on the list, there was a discussion about various pairings and who like who together and basically I am a Malcolm with anyone girl (but with a strong leaning to Malcolm/Trip). It got me thinking that we don't really see enough of this pairing so when this bunny came out to play I thought I better write it.  
  
Beta: Sarah who not only beta'd this story in record time but also got me writing again with a her suggestion on the list on how to get over writer's block. A thousand thank you's and cyber hugs. Any errors, typos and downright rottenness left in this is due to my stubborn nature.   


* * *

Starfleet was lucky to have him Malcolm Reed thought privately to himself. If it weren't for him, who else would take responsibility for guarding this rear corner of the mess hall? Who else would stand there in the shadows, nursing a ridiculously named drink, steadfastly ignoring any attempts at conversation or invites to dance. Yup, Malcolm thought to himself Starfleet was damn lucky to have him.

He sighed into his drink. God, he hated these stupid celebrations. They seemed to be popping up every other week. And the reasoning behind the celebrations seemed to be getting more and more dubious with each passing week. Malcolm was quickly coming to the conclusion that these "important dates" were actually figments of Commander Charles Tucker's fertile mind. But Trip always suggested the next gathering with such dedication, fervour and compelling debate that to not commemorate them would seem like sacrilege.

Malcolm shook his head, he wasn't bitter at Trip, whom he knew organised these events as a way for the hard-working crew to let off a bit of steam. No, Malcolm was bitter at the single comment in psyche evaluation that may have put his career advancement on hold—"some anti-social tendencies." Some bloody anti-social tendencies. Just because he commented to the pimply faced, still-dressed-by-mummy git who was masquerading as a psychologist that he sometimes found human contact tedious and actually preferred his weapons. Some anti- social tendencies. And because of those three words Malcolm was compelled to make an appearance at each and every social gathering that was held. Well, he decided, he had been social enough for one night. Time to go give those phase cannon modifications he been working on all week another go.

Malcolm pushed himself off from his little corner of the mess hall. He started to weave his way through the crowd to Trip—to thank him for his efforts, NOT to prove that he had actually been there—when THEY entered. Malcolm's heart skipped a beat as the noise in the mess hall died suddenly. All eyes swung around to take in the commanding presence of Captain Jonathan Archer. And with him his beautiful brown- eyed companion. The companion who had long ago stolen Malcolm's heart. Malcolm stopped in his tracks, fortunately shielded by a bouquet of balloons and some paper crepe streamers. His heart fluttered once, twice and then started to race. Malcolm willed himself to calm down. He hadn't known that he was coming. If he had he would have taken the time to better prepare himself for this moment, fortifying the walls around his heart. He gritted his teeth, damn Archer, what was he thinking bringing....Malcolm gritted his teeth harder, wearing away yet another layer of enamel. Damn it, no! He would not call his beautiful soul mate by that ridiculous name that Archer favoured. In Malcolm's mind he was freedom, honesty and purity. He was the only who seemed to really know Malcolm. The only who never judged Malcolm. He was the keeper of Malcolm's soul.

Damn Archer again. What was he thinking bringing him here? Archer must have known he wasn't used to the loud noise, the masses of people. Or maybe Archer knew and ignored it. Maybe he chose displaying his "possession" to his minions over any consideration for his companions needs.

Malcolm slammed his drink down on a nearby table and fought he way through the crowd to the exit. The crush seemed to push in on Malcolm and suffocate him as he struggled for his escape. He knew that if didn't get out of there soon, he would breakdown, and display his true feelings. He could never do that, not to Archer and certainly not to the keeper of his soul. The consequences would be too far- reaching and damaging for all parties concerned. There could be no winner in this love triangle.

Malcolm finally reached the doors and freedom, but he paused a brief moment before leaving. He gambled on one last glance back and that was almost his undoing. Grey eyes met chocolate brown eyes and suddenly time stopped moving. For a lifetime it seemed there was no one else in the room. Just two hearts beating in unison. The trance was broken by Archer calling out to his companion. Malcolm could hear the irritation in Archer's voice and he took some satisfaction in causing it. The Great All-Powerful Archer had to share the attention of his companion with someone else. Malcolm spun around again and stalked out of the mess hall and away from his heart's desire.

Sometime later Malcolm found himself alone in a small private corner of Enterprise. He could see the star streaming through a small porthole to the right of his seat. As he watched the stars Malcolm let his mind wander. He thought of his beautiful sister Madeline and what her reaction to all this would. He could picture it all so clearly in his mind. She would be shaking her head slightly looking at him with such a sorrowful expression on her face. She would take his head in her hands and give a small peck on his forehead. He'd be drawn into a gentle hug as she whispered softly to him, "Oh Malcolm, sweet, tender, Malcolm. Why do you this to yourself every time." Madeline had always bemoaned the fact that Malcolm seemed to choose the hard path, to seek out the friend, lover, soul mate, who was either unattainable or taken. Or, all too frequently, both. Malcolm felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "I've done it again Maddy," he whispered to the stars. "I've gone for the one I can't have. And now I'm stuck on this damned ship for the next four years. Four years Maddy of watching the eating together, walking together. Four years Maddy of knowing they are sleeping together. Oh Maddy, I need you. I wish you were here."

Malcolm let the tears flow as he mourned the relationship that was never to be. He knew eventually he would be able to close off that part of his heart and be able to be happy again. He would have friends on this ship, companions to help fill the time. But none would ever take the place that his soul keeper had filled.

Malcolm was so lost in his thoughts that he never heard the footsteps approaching. Never felt the brown eyes staring at him. He never knew he was not alone until the keeper of his soul leapt into his lap. Malcolm heart soared, but the cautious security officer scanned the room. They were alone. They were safe for the moment. Malcolm's visitor was not so cautious. He began to eagerly lick at Malcolm, desperate to wipe away the evidence of tears from his face. The rough tongue caused Malcolm to laugh out loud and he responded to the ticklish torment with a revenge of his own. Long elegant fingers, more used to firing phase cannons than tenderness, started to tickle behind the ears of Malcolm's tormentor.

The figure in Malcolm's lap yelped out loud at the ticklish torture he was being subjected to. This only spurred Malcolm on. The tickles evolved into an out and out wrestle. The licks became more erratic, landing all over Malcolm's face and body. The two wresting companions sang their praises of each other's administrations. Malcolm's joyous voice could be heard clearly over the noise of his companion. "You good boy, you good, good boy. You like this don't you boy, don't ya. No stuffy party for you. Uncle Malcolm going to show you how to have a good time. Yes he is. Oh yes he is. Who's a good boy, who's a good boy?"

The tall shape of Jonathan Archer cast a shadow over the stars as he left Malcolm and Porthos to their fun. He frowned in memory of Malcolm's antics earlier at the party. When would the reticent Reed learn that there was enough love in Porthos to go around. The frown turned to a smirked as Jon realised that he was all alone tonight. All alone in his big cabin with its big bed. And him with his big throbbing...He swallowed quickly and took a few calming breaths before striding quickly to the nearest comm link "Archer to Commander Tucker. My quarters five minutes. I've got a Jeffries Tube I want looked at."


End file.
